


barcarole

by justawillowtree



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: enjoy some adrinette having a nice gondola ride, just something fluffy i thought of while practicing chopin, while not really paying attention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 13:46:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7937005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justawillowtree/pseuds/justawillowtree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adrien plans a trip for his girlfriend of seven years to Venice, one of the famed cities of romance. What can he say? He's a romantic at heart. (Though Marinette pokes him in the nose every time he tries to tell her that.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	barcarole

With a tight fistful of Adrien’s linen shirt in one hand and an iron grip on her handbag containing the kwamis, Marinette held on for dear life as the two weaved through other tourists milling about the bustling Venice market next to where the gondolas were located. The two had aready been separated once, and that had ended rather disastrously, what with Marinette’s innate clumsiness and Adrien’s incapacity for direction. They had found each other when Marinette returned to the spot where they had lost each other, only to knock down a crate of merchandise, and that had ultimately caught Adrien’s attention.

Adrien stopped at the edge of the walkway, looking out at all the moored gondolas. “There’s our guy!” he said excitedly as he reached behind him for Mari’s hand. She let go of his shirt in favor of his hand, rolling her eyes fondly at how, even after so many years, Adrien managed such high spirits wherever they went. Apparently exhaustion was a foreign concept to him.

Upon reaching their gondolier, a middle-aged dark-haired man wearing a black and white striped shirt with a rainbow scarf for identification, Adrien gave a small bow and began speaking slowly in Italian, presumably requesting a general route through the canals of Venice.

Unbeknownst to Marinette until their arrival in Venice, the dork had spent a couple of months prior to the trip in an intensive language class, attempting to become fluent in Italian. Unsurprisingly, he hadn’t quite managed it, but he knew it well enough to carry a decent, albeit awkward, conversation.

Still, the amount of work he had put into planning this trip still floored Marinette.

After a few minutes of Italian, the gondolier tipped his rather classy straw gondolier hat at them and gestured towards the flat-bottomed boat bobbing leisurely in front of them. To Marinette, the shape of the boat from the side vaguely reminded her of one of Adrien’s cat smiles.

She managed to step into the boat without pitching forward into the water, which was a good sign, and she smoothed out her dress so that the hem covered her knees. Marinette always designed dresses specifically for vacations, but she only had enough time to sew together a pale pink halter top dress, so that was what she was wearing today.

Adrien settled himself into the cushioned seat next to her, draping an arm across her shoulders.

Truth be told, Adrien was feeling quite nervous about this trip. Seeing his rosy-cheeked girlfriend next to him filled him with an almost frightening desire to cherish her and make her happy for the rest of her life, which was why he had insisted on planning this trip entirely by himself, which he knew was a chore for her.

Marinette rested her head on his shoulder as the gondolier untied them and pushed off from the walkway with his foot. They were silent as the gondola glided through the water, slowly taking them away from the main canals and leading into the quieter ones farther from the hustle and bustle of the tourists.

Surrounding them were homes that were once painted with vivid oranges and yellows but had faded since then. On some, the exterior had chipped away to the point where the brick underneath was beginning to show. The reflections of the houses ran straight down into the water, as though there was a parallel world just underneath the surface.

Marinette loved it.

Behind them, the gondolier cleared his throat and said in broken French, “Pardon me, I do not usually sing, but your partner insisted. I was willing to make an exception for his case.”

Wincing, Marinette took that to mean Adrien pulled the money card. She knew for a fact Venetian gondoliers were not the stereotypical serenaders novels made them out to be, and so having one sing for them specifically because her boyfriend had money made her feel a little guilty.

Some of this guilt dissipated when the gondolier began crooning the notes of his boat song, his voice echoing off the water and walls, coming back to overlap itself. The melody drifted through the air so beautifully she couldn’t find it in her to feel bad about it, which was horrible, she knew.

“You did an amazing job with this,” Marinette said, lifting her head to give Adrien a smile. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” he said smoothly, though the boyish pride in his expression gave him away. He took her hand in his, running his thumb across her knuckles.

“You know,” said Marinette teasingly, resting her head on his shoulder again and enjoying the relaxing singing in the background, “I was partially expecting another trip where you blindfolded me _the entire plane ride_ in case I could ‘somehow figure out where we were going by the way the ground looked from afar’, you dummy—”

“Plagg agreed that it was a good idea!”

“You only use Plagg for backup when he supports your ludicrous ideas. All the other times Plagg opens his mouth, you just shove Camembert into it and hope that he shuts up.”

A muffled _“Hey!”_ sounded from the inside of Marinette’s handbag. In a panic, she flailed her arm and smacked it, attempting to cover for the unexplained noise coming from her bag. A quick glance at the gondolier showed he was none the wiser.

“Are you ever going to let that go?” Adrien mumbled, pressing his cheek against the top of her head as they drifted past more houses that looked as though they were floating on the canal. “It’s been eight months.”

“Nope! Though, there’s one thing I’ve been wanting to tell you.” Marinette gently extricated herself from the comfortable pillow that was Adrien’s shoulder and leaned in close enough that her lips were brushing his earlobe. “You didn’t notice this because you were too busy putting our carry-ons up in the luggage compartment, but they announced our destination at the beginning of the trip. So I knew that we were going to Japan. I just kept the blindfold on because it was a good sleeping mask.”

“No,” breathed Adrien in horror as he faced her with his brows furrowed.

Marinette let out a giggle and pressed a chaste kiss against his lips. “I love you, you dork. Now let’s sit and enjoy this instead of talking about your propensity for bad foresight, as entertaining as that is.” She settled back into the cushioned seat, letting their gondolier’s voice wash over them as the sun slowly set, gradually turning the sky into a myriad of oranges, pinks, and purples. The gondola weaved through the narrower canals far from the heart of the city, twisting and turning this way and that.

One by one, the lanterns hanging outside the windows of the homes were lit, and Marinette could easily imagine little fairies inside. Which, come to think, would make a brilliant idea for a dress—

“Stop thinking about work,” Adrien said, pinching her lips shut gently as though that would somehow keep her thoughts from darting through her head.

She scrunched up her nose in protest, and Adrien had to bite his lips to keep from laughing at how adorable his girlfriend was. To his pleasure, the crease that appeared between her brows whenever she thought about designs disappeared.

“No work,” he repeated before releasing her mouth, leaning in to kiss a corner of her lips in case he had accidentally pinched too hard.

As he shifted back, he caught Mari smiling at her lap, the apples of her cheeks blooming into a bright pink, and reflexively, he smiled as well. And he promptly began to tease her. “Aw, Mari, you love it when I pull this romantic suaveness on you, right? You think it’s hot, don’t you?”

“Definitely,” she said sarcastically, though the effect was dampened by her never-fading blush.

Adrien delighted in the fact that he could still make her blush like this even after seven years of dating. His arm, which had been resting on her shoulders the whole time, pulled her closer to him. Once again, she rested her head on his shoulder, its familiar weight a comforting presence. He never thought he would have been able to love anyone this much, but somehow, he kept finding more room in his heart for the adorable, sweet-tempered, flirtatious Marinette.

“We’re wasting your money by not paying enough attention to Venice,” Marinette murmured sadly.

“Alright, let’s pay attention then.”

Or, at least, Marinette could pay attention to Venice while he payed attention to her. It wasn’t his fault, exactly—she had these stray hairs that would occasionally tickle his chin because of the breeze, and she would let out an admiring sigh so often he couldn’t help but concentrate on her.

The sun dipped just under the horizon in front of them, creating a brilliant hue of a reddish indigo in the sky. The sun had set rather quickly—their gondolier had only been singing for about fifteen minutes.

It was now time to deploy the secret weapon. Adrien turned around and gave a subtle thumbs up at the gondolier, who wrapped up his song elegantly.

“Why’d you just give the gondolier a thumbs up?” said Mari, her voice soft and relaxed and somewhat sleepy from the calming air of the beautiful canals of Venice (as well as from leaning on Adrien’s shoulder for too long).

Adrien winced. He wasn’t as subtle as he hoped, then. It was now or never. So he kissed the top of her head and aimed for the stars.

“Mari, my Lady,” he began quietly, staring out at the way the sun’s reflection appeared to stretch towards them, “you’re probably the most important person in my life.”

At that, Mari lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him, an embarrassed but pleased smile gracing her features. She attempted to cover for it by saying lightly, “Only probably? Not a lot of confidence in that statement, is there?” She poked his nose, an action Adrien had learned meant that she was flustered beyond capacity with what he was saying.

“Shush, you numpty. I’m making a speech.”

“Okay, shushing. Let’s hear your speech.”

He shot her a stern look that cracked almost immediately upon hearing her subsequent giggles. “Okay, well. _The_ most important person. Because while Nino and Alya are awesome and all, they don’t appreciate my puns as well as you do.”

Marinette snorted. “Like I appreciate them at all.”

“Exactly!”

“Hey, speaking of which, you haven’t cracked a single pun since we got here.” Mari pressed her lips to Adrien’s forehead to check for a fever, much to his indignation. “Are you okay, _chaton_? Are you feeling well? Damn it, I should have noticed sooner.”

“Mari, the quantity of my puns per day doesn’t correlate at all with my health.”

“Yes, it does. I made some observations throughout the past year. Every time you were sick or feeling tired, you weren’t ever in the mood for puns.” Her eyes scanned his face anxiously.

“No, no,” laughed Adrien, his mind spinning with how to get himself out of this predicament. “I’m fine, seriously. No fever, nothing! See? You just felt my forehead, and it was fine.”

Mari pursed her lips to one side, staring at him speculatively, and Adrien held his breath, hoping with his fingers (and toes) crossed that she would just let it slide. If this had been any other day, he would have let Mari fuss, because she was just that considerate and he loved that about her, but today was not a good day for her suspicious gaze.

“Let’s look out at the water while I talk to you,” Adrien suggested in an embarrassingly obvious attempt to get her scrutinizing gaze off his face, and from the wry smile on her face, Marinette found it amusing. Unfortunately, she only glanced briefly at the water before flicking her gaze back towards his face, so he decided to just get on with it. “So, yeah. Everything about you makes me happy, you know. I love how you call me out when I’m being stupid, and you’re patient enough to sit with me and knock whatever stupidity is left in my brain out. I love how you smile at my puns even though you keep threatening to lock me in the closet if I ever do it again. I love how you’re the embodiment of an angel and so you always think of everyone. And so I was thinking…”

The dimness of the sky and the dark, tranquil water made for the perfect romantic setting, and Adrien was eternally grateful for the existence of Venice.

With a sheepish smile at Marinette, he reached for her handbag, unzipped it in a way so that the gondolier couldn’t see its contents, and rummaged around a bit until he found that black velvet box. Getting down on one knee (carefully, so that he didn’t upset the balance of the gondola and accidentally knock Marinette into the water or something), he opened the box and said, “Marinette, will you…?”

He blinked, his heart suddenly attempting to crawl out of his throat. The ring wasn’t there. Why wasn’t the ring there? He was just holding an empty box like a complete arse, and—

“Adrien,” Mari whispered, cupping her hands around her mouth, with her eyes shining brightly—with amusement or with emotion, he couldn’t tell. “I think Plagg’s wearing the ring as a tiara.” She pointed downwards at the still open handbag sitting in her lap, where he could just barely see his positively moronic little kwami sitting smugly with the ring perched on top of his head like he was King Arthur reincarnated. Next to him, Tikki was covering her face with her tiny little hands, probably too embarrassed at the spectacle that was Plagg.

Still on his knees on the wooden deck of the gondola, Adrien slowly leaned forward and faceplanted in between Marinette’s knees, his shoulders shaking with a resigned laughter. No matter where he went, Plagg was going to make it hard for him, wasnt he?

Adrien felt Mari lean over him and pepper the back of his head with kisses, laughing and crying and completely ignoring the squished cries of _“You are flattening us!”_ coming from her bag.

“Yes, yes, yes, you dork,” Marinette said, her lip trembling. She lifted his head up so that she could kiss him properly on the mouth, though it still wasn’t a very proper kiss considering how widely both of them were smiling.

“I didn’t even finish the question though.” Despite the whine in his voice, Adrien could not have been more elated at the way his proposal turned out. It definitely wasn’t perfect, but seeing the complete joy lighting up Marinette’s face made it pretty close.

“Okay, okay, I’ll let you finish the question.” Letting out an exhilarated laugh, Mari plucked the ring from the top of Plagg’s head, handed it to Adrien, and zipped the bag firmly so that Plagg couldn’t make any more trouble.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, will you do me the very esteemed honor of becoming my—”

“Yes,” she declared, beaming, her eyes once again shining with unshed tears.

“You didn’t let me finish!”

“Oh, right, sorry. Do you, er, want to try again?”

Adrien laughed with happiness pumping through his veins—that seemed to be the only emotion he could properly express right now, really—and stood swiftly, giving her a kiss on the lips before sitting down next to her, all while sliding the ring on her finger.

“No, it’s okay. I’m just happy you said yes,” he said, turning and giving the gondolier a grin. In return, the gondolier gave a thumbs up, wearing a congratulatory smile.

“Now that I’ve said yes, I have so many questions,” said Marinette, angling her body slightly towards him.

Her expression was still lit up from before, but for whatever reason, on instinct, Adrien still scooted backwards a few inches. This angling of the body was what Ladybug did right before launching herself into battle with an akuma, and this was also what Marinette, as a civilian, did whenever she was about to scold him for something.

“No, but, Future Wife, can’t this wait until our first marital spat?” he asked weakly.

She raised an eyebrow. “Adrien, there is literally a word for ‘future wife'. Fiance. Right? And no, this can’t wait. My curiosity has been piqued and I would like it satisfied, thank you very much.”

Her reference to the well known cat saying did not improve the situation.

“Are these questions about the logistics behind my proposal?” he asked, desperately trying to avoid questioning on the topic of his methods. He would rather not delve deep into the giant vat of memories where he’d planned badly for this and had to come up with an impromptu plan to keep Mari out of the dark.

“Yes. I’ll make this painless. I just don’t want to leave out any details when we tell this story to our grandchildren.” Her mischievous expression left him gulping. “So, tell me, what made you think hiding the wedding ring in my handbag was a good idea?”

“I thought it would camouflage in with Plagg.”

“…Wow. And your lack of puns was because, for once, you were nervous about something?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t call it _nervous_ , but I was…er, highly anticipating this moment.”

“Whatever makes you feel better, _chaton_. And I’m also going to assume that you convinced the gondolier to sing for us when you went to go find one by tearing up and explaining your plans to propose when he said no the first time.”

“You know, this is eerily accurate. Are you sure you weren’t there?”

“No, I just know you well.” She tilted her head, giving him a fond smile that just about melted him. “I love you, _minou_.”

“I love you, too,” said Adrien with a grumpy facade that only remained until she pulled him in for a kiss.

“Of course you picked Venice to propose in, you sap. Of course that soft heart of yours would pick one of the most romantic cities other than Paris to propose in,” Marinette breathed, sounding so unbelievably pleased that Adrien felt his lips curl into a smile as a reflex. “Let’s live a good life together,” said Marinette, and Adrien thanked whatever forces of nature that put him with this perfection.

**Author's Note:**

> i was actually practicing chopin's barcarolle when i thought of these two dorks, and, well, you know barcarolle means a venetian boat song, so i had to do this. (if you listen to the piece [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KU-5u2dmXdM) you can totally hear the gentle swaying of the boat.) these dorks won't leave my head. gdi adrinette.


End file.
